


At Least We Didn't Fly

by scruffandyarn



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 15:44:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2275401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scruffandyarn/pseuds/scruffandyarn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on: http://imaginethatsupernatural.tumblr.com/post/92189124698/sam-sammy-look-at-the-lovebirds-back-there</p><p>Imagine falling asleep next to Castiel in the back of the Impala and the Winchesters notice it.</p><p>Warnings: reader vomits due to motion sickness, but nothing graphic; swearing</p><p>Note: When I first read the imagine, all I could do was feel queasy, because I suffer from pretty horrid motion sickness.  So, that is where this comes from.  Hope it’s not too strange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Least We Didn't Fly

This was absolutely your least favorite part of hunting with the Winchesters and Castiel. No, not the constant danger. Not the physical pain and exhaustion. Not even the gross shit you sometimes had to wade through.

It was the ride back to whatever motel you all had gotten a room at.

You loved the Impala. You loved when you got to ride shotgun. You’d had a blast that one time you’d actually gotten to drive the gorgeous vehicle. It was that damned backseat that you hated. Or rather, you believed, the backseat hated you.

“Can we roll a window down, please? I need some air.” Usually, on the way to the hunt, you were able to control it. It was on the ride back, your adrenaline fading, that you had the most trouble reining in your motion-sickness.

“Are you kidding? It’s snowing like crazy out there.” Dean’s comment meant that any sort of air-flow on your face wasn’t going to happen.

“Please? I feel like I’m dying back here.” You protested. You’d managed to keep your affliction under wraps from the men who were in the car with you. But then again, you’d always managed to convince Dean that the windows needed to be down. It wasn’t like you’d purposefully been hiding it—it had just never come up. And the one time you’d gone on a hunt and it had started raining on the way back to the motel, the drive had been mercifully short. Now, though, you still had at least another twenty minutes or so.

“You didn’t get hurt that badly.” Dean snapped. “I am not letting that damned snow in this car just to ruin Baby’s interior.”

“Then you better pull over soon.” You mumbled, willing your mind to focus on something other than the dizziness you felt.

But nooooo—you couldn’t look out the windows. Couldn’t look at anything other than what was straight out of the windshield. The road was starting to turn white and the falling snowflakes took on a Matrix sort of look, thanks to the speed Dean was driving at. Shit—that only made your stomach tighten even more.

“Dean, I think it would be wise if you pull over.” Cas spoke up. Dean glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “______ seems to be paling.”

“What’s wrong?” Sam turned around in his seat to see if he could help.

“Motion sickness.” You finally admitted, pressing your lips together and forcing a smile to your face. You remembered from some TV show how they said that if a person forced themselves to smile, they wouldn’t throw up. You desperately hoped the show was right, or Dean would never forgive you.

“Shit.” Dean instantly lifted his foot from the gas pedal and began to decelerate. 

You leaned your face against the window, hoping that the cold pane against your skin could offer some kind of relief. It was at that same moment, in his attempts to pull the Impala to the shoulder, Dean hit an ice patch and the car jerked. You ended up slamming your cheek against the glass, hard.

“Fuck.” Your hands moved to cup your cheek, only to hiss in pain when you brushed against the now tender spot. You pulled your fingers away instantly, teeth clenched. “Deeeeaaaan.” You moaned.

“Almost there.” He’d managed to get the car back under control. 

The car was almost stopped, but you couldn’t wait any longer. After colliding with the window, your smile had disappeared, and you couldn’t keep the nausea from overwhelming you. You threw open the door as the car was still slowing and leaned out the side, losing everything that was in your stomach onto the snow-covered ground. 

“Damn it.” Dean finally got the Impala to a stop and put the car in park.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled as soon as you had finished vomiting. “I’m so sorry.” You had tears in your eyes as you righted yourself and slumped back against the seat.

“Here.” Sam was turned around in his seat again, holding out a bottle of water to you. Weakly, you reached out and accepted it. You uncapped the bottle and poured some of it’s contents into your mouth. You swished it around, then spit it out on the ground. After rinsing your mouth out two more times, you drank the rest of the water. Then you slumped back once more. “Better? Do you need to ride up here?”

You shook your head before leaning over, this time, towards Cas. His momentary look of horror melted into shock when, instead of throwing up on him as he’d anticipated by your movements, you simply laid your head on his lap. You curled yourself up on the seat, using his leg as a pillow. His breath caught when you nuzzled against his leg before almost instantly falling asleep.

“You gonna get the door?” Dean turned around in his seat, only to be met with Cas’s glare. “Guess not.” He opened his own door and reached back to push yours closed. He wasn’t about to get out and risk stepping in anything. “We good?” He pulled his door shut and looked at Cas.

“She is sleeping.”

“I got that, Cas.” Dean glanced down at your, frowning at the bruise that was forming on your cheek. “Make sure she puts some ice on that.” Cas nodded.

“She won’t get any air where she is.”

“Every so often, run your fingers through her hair.” Sam instructed him. “Your fingers are gonna be cold, so it’ll make her feel better.” He remembered having to do the same for Jess once when the two of them had gotten stuck sitting in the back of a car as they and their friends took a trip to the beach one weekend. Of course, he’d had to stick his hand in the cooler to get it the right temperature, but the current weather provided its own cooling factor.

“OK.” Cas tested Sam’s instructions, surprised to hear you whimper in response. “Was that correct?”

“Yeah, just—” He whipped around in his seat when Cas’s legs shifted and it became obvious that his body was enjoying having you so close.

“Dude.” Dean turned around quickly as well and jammed the car into drive. “Make sure she brushes her teeth.”

“Why would that be necessary? She is very regular about dental hygiene without having to be reminded.”

“Trust me.” Carefully, Dean drove back out onto the road.


End file.
